


Ink Splashes

by NewAllegroBeat



Category: Super Junior
Genre: AU, Depression, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Older Hae, Romance, Teen HyukJae, Teenage Rebellion, teenage drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-10 01:18:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3271421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewAllegroBeat/pseuds/NewAllegroBeat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i></i>
</p><p>{I pick up all the pieces and I move my feet as fast as I can.<br/>
I'm always falling behind, just float in the lines.<br/>
You want more and ambition's taken its toll on you.<br/>
Well hey your confidence is fading with your youth.<br/>
(...)Is this the life you've been waiting for?}<br/>
(Ask yourself - Foster the People)</p><p>DongHae tries for HyukJae, HyukJae tries for himself. Somehow, it feels like they are both failing. Even so, they'll keep trying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Winter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hyukpan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyukpan/gifts), [frosted](https://archiveofourown.org/users/frosted/gifts).



> {32 drabbles / 32 prompts / 1 story}  
> {EunHae Love♡}
> 
> ps. story might not be always told chronologically, if you’re not really into that… sorry :c

 

 

HyukJae was a doe-eyed fifteen-year-old when he first crossed the crystal doors of the gym DongHae frequented. He was skinny and pasty; black hair trimmed unevenly, chicken arms barely starting to form some muscle. He wasn’t like the usual energetic teenagers who signed up for the gym full of vigor and expectations; he was lanky and parsimonious, yet determined.

He came in with an oversized bag slung across his lithe body, his body covered with a beige coat and hoodie that hid his face. He had snowflakes melting onto his hair and his breath was still visible even though the gym was perfectly warm. It was winter, and it seemed as if someone so small as HyukJae would have been having a really hard time with it.

And then he took the coat off and checked it into the lockers, and he was beautiful. His avid eyes, his pouty mouth, his sharp nose, his still-not-so-defined jaw; he strode across the spinning bikes with confidence and grace. He might’ve looked like a pray but was determined to become a predator.

And even though DongHae knew better than to be ogling teenagers who were seven years younger than him, he couldn’t help but liking this kid... And HyukJae noticed, of course. He noticed how brown eyes traced the way he lithely moved through the crowded machines and smirked. He might as well, HyukJae thought as he walked right up to DongHae, take good advantage of this drooling dude. 

“Hey, can you help me? I need spotting” HyukJae demanded more than asked, and then added a perfectly fake shy-smile and a “Please, hyung?” for good measure.  

DongHae nodded, his mouth watering unhealthily as HyukJae discarded all of his extra garments on the floor, leaving him in training pants and a dark blue tank top.

Back then, HyukJae only had a tribal tattoo on his bicep and a huge diamond on his forearm with a fancy tag underneath that read _Jewel_ in English. 

DongHae snickered and thought they were, uh, _cute._

 

 

Two years later, life finds them at the same place, with DongHae spotting HyukJae as every Thursday—and isn’t that just a little depressing?

DongHae hasn’t really changed; his hair has grown longer, and he’s now in his last year, but HyukJae… Well, HyukJae is a whole other story.

Having had a serious growth spurt, he is now a full inch taller than DongHae and his lanky muscles have become toned and strong, just as his features. He’s dyed his hair a cherry red and has let it grow so it falls teasing just above his eyelids, and his once sad childish tattoos have been joined by big, story-telling life marks. He has his entire left arm covered, and his right one is heading straight down the same path.

DongHae can admit (only to himself though, if he’s not near any police officers either) he gets off on watching as the ink flexes around that taught skin; that focused frown he only sees in HyukJae when he’s exercising. He’s one hot son of a bitch, and he knows it well.

His now boyfriend stops lifting and sinks against the seat, and DongHae’s chest aches with how much HyukJae’s different now, how much he is the person he set out to become years ago when he first entered the gym—two years, so little on paper yet too freakin’ much in reality.

“I’m tired, and I want a cigarette. Let’s go home, yes?” HyukJae says, his voice now completely changed and matured compared to the kiddy one two years ago and DongHae nods, biting his tongue to not tell the redhead he shouldn’t smoke so much (‘cause that had gone so well the last time).

It’s not DongHae’s fault, certainly. HyukJae’s got his own issues, his own life that’s not ruled by what DongHae thinks about it—but still, DongHae’s the adult; maybe he should’ve said something, _done_ something.

HyukJae puts the jacket on, rolls the fluffy scarf around his neck and pulls it over his mouth. Once again he’s fifteen. Cute and shy, touched by the frost, cheeks red against pale skin; he’s a vision, and DongHae can’t care less about right or wrong when he takes his hand in his and twines their fingers together. Even though all they feel it’s the cloth of the other’s glove, it still feels nice and intimate. Cozy.


	2. Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's pretty fluffy. Don't get used to it tho, or you'll suffer later if you do lol

“Aren’t you a little young to be smoking?” DongHae scrunches up his nose, sniffing the air around them. “Especially _that."_  

HyukJae raises his head and takes off his earphones. His expression is blank an unimpressed, the only evidence of life being a blush on his cheeks and his bloodshot eyes, probably due to the pot.

“Aren’t you kinda old to be taking the bus? Shouldn’t you buy yourself a car, grandpa?”

DongHae squints his eyes and huffs. Rascal.

“Hey, I’m only twenty-four, excuse you!” he defends. He sits next to HyukJae on the bus stop bench but the teenager doesn’t move an inch. He eyes HyukJae sideways, his heart missing a beat when he finds HyukJae’s harsh stare glued to his face. His eyes are dark and deep, filled with secret thoughts and a youthful gleam that HyukJae puts extra effort into hiding. “How about you?”

“Sixteen,” HyukJae replies, stretching himself tall and yawning.

It occurs to DongHae that even though he’s been spotting HyukJae for almost a year now, they haven’t really talked much. He knows HyukJae attends a public High School because he sometimes comes in hurried with his wrinkled uniform still on (and that really shouldn’t be as sexy as DongHae finds it); he knows he smokes and not only cigarettes on occasion, that he likes American pop music and old school Korean Hip-Hop, which he’s gathered from peeping while HyukJae goes through his cellphone music. Truth be told, DongHae isn’t usually this observant—it’s because it’s _HyukJae_ , and that seems enough reason to pay attention, even though it’s probably for the better if DongHae didn’t care at all.

“Hey. Where are you heading?” the teen pulls his scarf down and turns to face DongHae better, his gaze hopeful and his lips curved slightly upwards. “I… I mean, ah… Because… Because I’m going downtown for a consultation for a new tattoo  and… if you’re not busy or anything… You could. Uhm. Join me, if you… You know?” he stutters pitifully in the most shy display of character DongHae’s ever witnessed from him.

His expression is so cute and yearning and…

…And then it dawns on DongHae that, possibly, probably, HyukJae totally likes him back.

And he shouldn’t feel so happy. He shouldn’t feel like screaming from the top of a hill and announcing it on the radio, because it is borderline illegal and totally inappropriate but DongHae has always been a romantic at heart and this can’t be just another random moment in his uneventful life, it has to be _more_. He _wants_ it to be more.

“I’m free” he says, even though he has a paper due on Monday and he hasn’t really started it yet. HyukJae’s large smile—the first one DongHae ever gets— makes it worthy, though.

The bus comes five minutes into the pausing silence between the two, and they both release the breaths they didn’t know they’ve been holding, relieved. It’s hard to find something appropriate to say, especially when neither of them is thinking about _chatting._  

DongHae follows HyukJae to the seats at the end, sitting by the window. At first they sit right next to each other without touching, but as the bus goes through the financial district into more residential areas, HyukJae moves closer and rests his head on DongHae’s shoulder timidly.

It seems almost funny to think that the sassy kid who likes to believe everything will ever work his way is acting this prudent, but it only makes the gesture seem even more enticing. He turns to HyukJae slowly, nudging the side of his face gingerly.

“I’ve never kissed a man” HyukJae suddenly blurts out, his cheeks blushing pitifully. He looks so _young_ and—is it wrong for DongHae to adore him this much?

“It’s just a kiss” DongHae says, his voice low and seductive. It feels like velvet against HyukJae’s ear and he can’t help but shiver, parting his lips in a silent plea.

DongHae, of course, can’t deny such a request and he. What’s shy and exploratory soon becomes messy and intense, the seeking tip of HyukJae’s tongue meeting DongHae’s expert one. For the teen it feels like butterflies, millions of new yet expected sensations that course through his young body; for DongHae—shit, for DongHae it feels exactly the same and isn’t that just fucked up? He’s had several more attractive (though that’s debatable) and definitely more experienced men, hell, even nicer in character and not to mention with the ability to buy a bottle of wine to share… and what does DongHae do? He gets hooked on a teenager who knows nothing about life outside his own. DongHae really _is_ a piece of work, isn’t he?

DongHae’s holds HyukJae completely, pulling him forward with a hand on his lower back. It gets hard to breathe but it feels too good to stop as HyukJae whimpers slightly when DongHae bites his lower lip.

When they do break apart, they are both panting breathlessly and ignoring a sideways glare an old man is giving them.

“That wasn’t just…” his eyes are wide but not scared, never scared. Curious; they are curious and expectant. He surges forward, gluing his body to DongHae’s without a care of where they are.

“I agree” DongHae whispers against HyukJae’s mouth, and kisses him again, sighing contentedly when the latter’s shoulders relax as he moves his arms to wrap them around DongHae’s neck.


	3. Snowflake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning(s):
> 
> long (for drabbles -which these are supposed to be which they are not really lol-)  
> +  
> sad (sort of) (plot starts blooming)

Five months and a half into their relationship, DongHae becomes aware of two things regarding it.

First, against all logical and plausible grownup thinking, he’s fallen head over heels in love with this kid that smokes too much and spends all of his allowance and pocket money into inking his skin with needles. Secondly and subsequently, HyukJae, in spite of his young age and apparently aloof attitude, might be in love two.

A bonus would be; the two previous facts aren’t necessarily beneficial for both their existences.

Because you see, HyukJae is like a snowflake: beautiful and unique, yet extremely cold and frail.

DongHae has known this since the very beginning, but it doesn’t really hit him until a Saturday evening while he’s studying for a term final when he hears a banging on his front door and behind it he finds a very unsteady HyukJae perched against the doorframe.

“Hello~ _hyung”_ HyukJae says, stepping into DongHae’s personal space and winding his arms around the man’s neck. The brunette immediately scrunches up his nose; he _reeks_ of alcohol. And it’s not a fresh smell either; he smells _rancid_ , worn, plus he’s still in his uniform—that can’t be good. How long has he been out?

“HyukJae…” he half sighs half asks, too impressed and tired from studying to say anything else.

The teen presses himself against DongHae, and it’s not in the heated wanton way he does when they are making out on DongHae’s futon. It’s needy and wailing; his breath is ragged and shaking profusely, though not yet sobbing (even if he looks like he could break into tears right on the spot).

“I’m so stupid, Hae-hyung. I always let them get to me. I shouldn’t… I’ll get expelled and then…” His mumbles get more incomprehensible by the second and it dawns on DongHae that he should, you know, _do…_ something.

He manages to close the door with the heavy nearly-dead weight of the teen slowing him down, but isn’t able to get past the living room, so he drops HyukJae on the couch. Wow, HyukJae _has_ really built himself up. The teen mumbles something and pulls at his collar, so DongHae decides to take his shirt off—after all, he looks uncomfortable and why wouldn’t he be?

He carefully starts unbuttoning the white school shirt when he gets a glimpse of reddened purple. He sucks in a breath. Those are bruises. And cuts, one particularly ugly crossing an embellished skull tattoo HyukJae had gotten done not even a month ago—shit, that could get _really_ infected. And he’s gotten beaten up, it’s apparent. _Shit—_ where…? How…? DongHae is about to say something when he notices the huge hickies all over HyukJae’s neck and collarbones and now that he’s seen them, he cannot _un_ -see them.

Red anger flashes through his veins, his breath picking up with the disgusting thought of anybody else touching HyukJae, _his_ HyukJae—yes, it hasn’t been _that_ long, but HyukJae’s just…

Fuck. _Fuck._

He straightens, but the teen grabs his wrist before he can go away.

“Don’t leave” HyukJae whimpers but DongHae just shakes his drunken grasp, the knot inside his throat pressing him to spit something he may later regret. Instead, he assures HyukJae that he’s just going for a blanket so he has an excuse to leave for a second.

Stupid kid. Stupid kid and his stupid decisions and confusing actions that leave DongHae all flustered and frustrated and just _fuck him all the way_ because the brunette can’t be sure that HyukJae hasn’t drunk-cheated on him and he shouldn’t be as hurt by the prospect. But he is. He wants to wake HyukJae up and kick his ass and cry and demand explanations and petitions of forgiveness.

DongHae’s not good at this. DongHae is used to be the kiddie of the group, the flaky charming puppy that everybody likes and looks after. He doesn’t know how to be a grownup, not really. Much less _the_ grownup.

He comes back with a soft winter blanket and lays it on top of HyukJae, who promptly snuggles against it like a wet kitty.

HyukJae doesn’t ask him to but DongHae does it anyways: he shoves HyukJae to make space for him and drops to the couch next to HyukJae, hugging him close the best he can. It’s weird, the man thinks, how even in this state HyukJae instinctively knows how to make his growing limbs fit with DongHae’s like a puzzle. Their legs intertwine and their arms find bay around the other’s body. HyukJae nudges DongHae’s throat with his nose and inhales deeply, as if he’s trying to find the familiar warmth in it.

“I really… _really…_ like you” HyukJae whispers, pressing blind barely-there kisses along DongHae’s cheek and jaw.

Outside, the first flowers of spring are blooming, yet DongHae feels it’s still winter, immersed in the cozy moment that contrasts with his cold perception of this weird relationship he’s gotten himself into. After all, HyukJae is a lost human; what he needs is less a companion and more a center of gravity. Were DongHae smart, he would cut it short and maybe gift HyukJae with some visits to the shrink so he can sort his shit out.

But he can’t—because he wants HyukJae, because he loves him, and because he has absolutely no way of denying himself something he desires this much.

Finally, he sighs, feeling defeated. But he pulls HyukJae closer either way.

“I really like you too, Hyuk. Now sleep; you need to rest baby.”

 

A week later, DongHae fails his exam and gets a term behind on his program, but he can’t really give a damn because that same afternoon he gets totally stoned with HyukJae and the redhead gives him a blowjob for the first time. It should’ve worried DongHae that the kid is so good at this, but then HyukJae produces more weed and sucks his tongue while dry-humping him through his jeans and he just forgets to ask. 


	4. Restless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've moved out of my house! :o #NobodyCares But it's why I haven't been uploading (or writing, actually). But I'm back! This chap... well, if it's a drabble then it's one fucking long-ass drabble, lol

“Where are you going?” SooRin asks, looking away from her homework to stare at him with those wide eyes full of the innocence she still keeps.

HyukJae smiles weakly, feeling a tinge of guilt at leaving his ten year old sister alone with a baby girl sleeping in the next room, but he can’t stand being in this house anymore. Lately he hasn’t been spending too much time “home” anyway.

“Out. Tell mom you didn’t see me leave if she asks.” _If…_ Because odds were probably she wouldn’t give a damn where he is; whatever he’s doing, if he isn’t home she assumes it’s something bad.

Well, the last four years HyukJae’s has been fulfilling those expectations to perfection.

He hops on the first bus downtown he catches and as it drives away he watches the old pristine house; a house kept flawless thanks to a seemingly perfect working couple with perfect children with a bubble-like upbringing. It is almost funny how the sole presence of HyukJae jumped out of place being there, what with his dyed hair, toned muscles and skin full of ink. He isn’t the gentleman-y go-getter his father is, but that’s okay. HyukJae can get by.

Since his first taste of reality had been so gratifying, exquisitely decadent, HyukJae turned his life goals around 180 degrees. Or to be more accurate, he destroyed said goals and refocused on living in the moment. If the substance makes you feel good, how bad can it be? But they are expensive, right? Well, there are always ways of…

The bus drops him off a couple of blocks too far but he doesn’t mind the walk; it gives him time to think. He needs a game plan. _Hyung_ is mad at him because he broke the _arrangement;_ but he just doesn’t have it in him to cheat on DongHae. So now he’s cut off and going insane. He knows _Hyung_ won’t be mad for a long time, though; business is business and HyukJae is the perfect dealer for the school district. He’ll just have to pay full price for the merchandise… He can manage that. DongHae’s worth it.

Because DongHae is—he halts, realizing he’s just passed the tattoo parlor and laughs at the direction his thoughts have taken.

“Hey, YunHo-hyung!”

The brunette looks up from his book and smiles. “You’re late” he says, but with no real reprimand in his tone. He holds up a printed picture of the outline of a dark woods landscape in black and grayscales; in the middle, an awaiting fox ready to bolt is the only splash of color: angry shades of red and orange converging into smooth dashes of paint. “I traced the sketch, it should be fairly simple. Although the coloring…”

“I know, I know” HyukJae sighs, leaving his backpack next to the reception desk. “I have the money, I promise.”

YunHo raises his left eyebrow, unimpressed. “And this money comes from…?”

HyukJae just smiles cryptically, patting his pocket as he sits on the white chair and takes off his T-shirt. “White money, hyung, if you want some, I can totally fix you up.”

“Thanks. I don’t do drugs. I artistically _scar_ people for living, HyukJae.”

HyukJae shrugs and hugs the chair, already feeling nauseated by the prospects of hours under the needle. Much like the white powder he snorts every now and again (and again once again), tattoos are addictive. For HyukJae, every sitting under YunHo’s skilled hands and tools is pure torture, but the result makes it all worth it. HyukJae’s tainted inside out, so why not turn his body into art while he’s at it?

Soon enough, he starts dozing off from the pain, his body rejecting the sharp jabs. The buzzing of the machine is like a crude lullaby, and HyukJae’s head spins tiredly.

“So, how’s it going with that boyfriend of yours? How long has it been? A year now?”

HyukJae smiles through his tears, fondly, in spite of himself. He can’t quite believe the amount of warmth that shoots through him at the mention of DongHae.

“Yep, almost. He’s…” _everything,_ “Studying for his finals. He’s going to become a pediatrician. A decent man.” _Unlike me._

 

 

DongHae opens the door and HyukJae’s eyebrows shoot up. His boyfriend looks like shit; dark bags under his eyes, chapped lips and oily skin, home clothes wrinkled and over-worn.

“I’m studying for a test… What are you up to?”

HyukJae’s eyes light up and he throws himself over DongHae. He feels euphoric and horny and his skin itches all over thanks to the tattoo and the line he snorted on the way here. He wants to cry and laugh and hug and _fuck_ and it’s a weird sensation, one that he knows very well indeed. But it’s different now, with DongHae in front to be the recipient of it.

“You’re on something” DongHae grumbles, scratching his neck; his voice is raspy yet dead serious. He holds HyukJae at arm’s length and closes the door, frowning. “What did you take?”

HyukJae smiles sadly. When did DongHae develop this weird sort of ‘authority’ over him? When did he stop being at a loss with HyukJae’s erratic behavior? Does he know him so well by now? “Does it matter? I could say orange juice but you still wouldn’t be okay with it.”

DongHae’s eyes are harsh as he tugs HyukJae towards his bedroom, which is, to say the least, messy. Empty take out boxes lie shambolically discarded same as his clothes and notebooks. The only spot that seems to have a sort of order at all is one circle of books, pencils and highlighters that looks lived-in but in control—the only thing that DongHae _holds_ in control at the moment.

“Sleep it off, I need to study” the man says, practically throwing the teen onto the bed.

HyukJae pouts and widens his eyes, biting his lower lip. “Please, _Hae_ … Come here.”

The brunette looks at him and there’s something HyukJae can’t read in his stare. It’s empty yet charged with emotion; DongHae is confused and afraid and trying to be unwavering, but HyukJae is too smashed at the moment to understand the hidden language.

He watches DongHae concentrate for half an hour or so. He looks real nice all focused like that; his brow is frowned and he's all… in the zone; this is what he _does._ Then after awhile it all becomes blurry around the edges and HyukJae falls into something akin to sleep although not really such; he feels icky and slithery. He turns in his mind, tosses against the sheets only to find out he isn’t able to move. His limbs twitch inside his skin but they don’t actually _move,_ and it’s freaking him the hell out.

HyukJae doesn’t hear the scream, just feels the ripping through his throat, the shortness of breath. He also hears DongHae’s voice slice through the sleep induced fog, bringing him back to this room, to the world of the living.

“Hey! HYUKJAE!”

DongHae’s hand feels scorching hot where it touches his arm, but it’s also comforting in a weird, suffocating way. It grounds him.

“You were having a nightmare, I think” he whispers, his voice breathless yet piercing, confidential. Sometimes he worries HyukJae is succumbing to the night terrors he's devised for himself. 

HyukJae rubs his face against the pillow, breathing in that characteristic scent that is only DongHae’s. “Then sleep with me” he replies quietly, stretching himself.

Silence.

A beat.

And DongHae goes to him, letting HyukJae wrap him in his warm possessive arms—where he belongs.


	5. Flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> time. yep. sorry. idk. enjoy. i do put a lot of effort and love and thought into these. thanks for reading. xo. and shit. c:

HyukJae has a snake tattoo on his left hipbone. It was a gift for DongHae, or so he says.

HyukJae is always saying his tattoos are only for himself, paid _by_ him and designed _for_ him; so to confess that this one he got seared onto him with DongHae in mind _…_ It feels suffocating, binding almost.

DongHae looks at it, at the lithe body beneath him that has become as strong as his own, and feels possessive, _powerful._ It’s like his hands are scorching and everywhere he touches HyukJae’s skin he leaves a trail of red, dripping like candle wax all over the teen’s body.

Truth be told… DongHae _loves_ it.

It’s sinful. Everything about HyukJae is sinfully poisonous. A snake is pretty appropriate.

Maybe it doesn’t have much to do with DongHae himself, but as he licks down the line of blue hues that make out its twisted body, he finds it fitting for what HyukJae _does_ to DongHae’s mind, how he infects DongHae’s system. So it _is_ fitting; fitting _and_ sexy. So, _so_ sexy.

 

DongHae always takes his sweet time stripping HyukJae, he enjoys it as one would unwrapping a much-expected present. But he always leaves the white school shirt on. He does it just because seeing HyukJae fully naked does things to his psyche, and not precisely in an erotic sense.

The teen’s body keeps getting thinner in spite, grows paler every day, and part of DongHae’s brain keeps reminding him that it’s not just the dark ink against milky skin, but he chooses to ignore it because it’s convenient. And doesn’t that sum up their whole relationship?

They love each other, yes, in a sense… Maybe. Most importantly, they _get_ each other, they feel like themselves around each other, and isn’t that so much better than pure, pink-colored love?

They _want_ each other, too. More than they wish to live; they have turned desire into maddening necessity and it makes everything so much messier.

“ _DongHae…_ ” HyukJae’s thighs tremble and he arches into DongHae’s body, his head thrown back as he moans wantonly.

DongHae bites off a groan as he lets HyukJae turn them around and get on top. His hips move in synch, teasing, anticipating, and DongHae wonders how this can exist, something so extremely good he thinks he might just die from the tight heat coiling inside him.

And then HyukJae puts both arms on either side of DongHae’s head and he sees them, right next to the hem of HyukJae's bunched up shirtsleeve. DongHae freezes, and HyukJae catches it; that flickering look of shock and horror on the man’s eyes.

“What?” HyukJae says, breathless.

Needle scars. Bruised and inconspicuous yet so embedded in HyukJae’s skin… How can DongHae miss them? How can DongHae not say something? He’s noticed. Every single sign there has been he’s noticed. Yet, he’s kept quiet.

He’s about to speak up, not for the first time, yet again he gets distracted when HyukJae mumbles a mewling  “DongHae?” and he looks wrecked and concerned and wanting and _adorable_ and DongHae wants to just hug him and keep him by his side for eternity.

Worst part is—he knows he _can’t._ He feels helpless for it.

So instead he kisses HyukJae, he kisses him deep with all the feelings pouring from his lips. He tells him with his body; _it’s okay, I’m here with you, let me help you, let me in…_

  

HyukJae’s frozen ice; cold yet scorching to the touch. He transforms everything around him, and DongHae can’t do anything but melt under his existence.


	6. Accusation

It’s sort of always like the first time, hearts pumping and bodies searching desperately, yet all at once it gets _better and fucking better._

HyukJae, the early bloomer, hadn’t been a virgin when he started dating DongHae, but he had never truly enjoyed sex either. He knew the gym had given him a great body and knew where it could get him; he had been using it for his advantage for a long time without inhibitions or regrets. Even before the gym, he had known how enticing he could be when in front of the right crowd. 

And then DongHae came along and not only taught him how to make love in the full sense of the word but also what plain great sex was. Just for the sake of enjoying each other because they feel like it, because they’re in love and can’t get enough of it.

HyukJae, who has always been more of a dancer than a poet, feels connected to DongHae because of this. Expressing himself through his body suits him. When they are in bed together, all barriers are erased and the closeness eliminates any possible glitches they might encounter. In that tiny square that is DongHae’s bedroom, the rest of the world disappears and they are perfect together.

But there’s also _so much_ they don’t know about the other. Like DongHae, who in spite of having come out to his parents on his teenage years would never bring HyukJae back to his house in Mokpo, doesn’t see being a doctor and having HyukJae in his life at the same time as feasible and wouldn’t even mention his teenage boyfriend to his friends.

Then there’s HyukJae, who is merely stumbling through life and spends all his free time with DongHae because he’s got nothing better to do. It’s not that he _doesn’t_ love DongHae, it’s just… That’s the _only_ thing he feels anymore. He doesn’t expect DongHae to stay with him a long time after school, but he doesn’t see it ending either. Basically, HyukJae just doesn’t see shit.

So there they are, glued together yet alone yet accompanied and as DongHae rests his head in HyukJae’s chest he counts the ribs he can see through that greyish skin that every day become more protruding. He looks up and HyukJae smiles at him lazily, his skinny fingers curling themselves in DongHae’s brown locks. 

Warm affection spreads through DongHae and the thoughts race to his head, rushed and tangled.

 

_I love this man._

_I want him with me._

 

It’s overwhelming, so pure it’s painful because they’re already so tainted.

And then he knows that if he wants to be serious with HyukJae, he’s got to speak up or he’ll die wondering _what if._

“Hyuk… Why don’t you go to the gym anymore?”

The redhead shrugs. He’s still under the effects of that delicious post-orgasmic lethargy and nothing other than DongHae’s skin really makes sense to him right now.

“I don’t know, I don’t think it is necessary… You keep me fit” he smirks.

DongHae inhales and then… it’s out.

“HyukJae… I know you’re doing drugs.”

HyukJae tenses only for a second and then bites his lower lip, considering whether he should lie or not.

Finally, he chooses something in between.

“Occasionally. Everybody at school does it.”

“No. Not occasionally. You’re turning into a skeleton, Hyuk. Your skin is…” _fuck._ Suddenly, now that he’s saying it, everything is so unbearably apparent it sickens him. “No, this is not a recreational line up your nose. You’re a junkie, HyukJae, you’re...”

DongHae grips the sheet right beside DongHae’s left hip, so forcefully; it’s what he wants to do to HyukJae now, what he’d do if he had the energy: shake him, snap him out.

But he doesn’t, so he helplessly lets his eyes well up and looks at HyukJae through half-closed eyelids.

“HyukJae, I love you too much to see you waste your life. We need to talk... Talk… Together. About this. Help. I can help you.”

The cloud of sleepiness is getting thicker, so much so that he doesn’t catch the hitch in HyukJae’s breathing, the way his chest moves in near-convulsions.

“Just go to sleep, Hae.” HyukJae mumbles, so tired of living.

“I won’t let you kill yourself.” DongHae insists, pressing himself against HyukJae’s sharp body.

“I’m sure you won’t. Just sleep, love. Everything will be better in the morning.”

 

And HyukJae means it. At least, he hopes.

He hopes that, at least, DongHae won’t remember about this.

He means to hope, that DongHae will still love him when he wakes up, even if he remembers everything.

 

He… He needs DongHae to love him no matter what, or what will kill him will not be an overdose.


	7. Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -this is SO long   
> -every time i get a comment i get so excited! if u have the time, leave a comment, yes? thx ♥

HyukJae never knew DongHae could be so strong until he finds himself under the brunette's body with heated eyes piercing his skull.

 

 

"Where are we going?" DongHae asks for the sixteenth time, nuzzling HyukJae’s arm with his face in a very puppy-like manner.

"You'll see..." HyukJae smiles mysteriously at DongHae’s childish pout, and DongHae thinks he’s beautiful for that.

This is new for them, this sort of comfortable companionship outside the gym or DongHae’s tiny apartment. They walk along the streets bumping their shoulders playfully, and HyukJae holds DongHae’s hand in the street, squeezing it with bony fingers. He smirks when a lady stares at them with a frown, sticking his tongue out and looking young and innocent and adorable, even if the lips that surround the muscle are chapped and dry.

They stop in front of YunHo’s discreet tattoo parlor and the teen sighs. He’s never shared this with anyone before. It feels thrilling, good thrilling.

“This is it.”

DongHae can’t help a surprised yet pleased expression when he sees it; it’s not at all how he’d imagined it. After all, DongHae is a tattoo virgin and always pictured all these kinds of shops as black perdition holes on alleyways’ ends. This, on the contrary, is nice and cozy and colorful and artistic and the artist, YunHo, a smiley attractive guy with crooked front teeth, is welcoming and educated and not the punk-rock beast DongHae had in mind.

“Do you expect me to get inked? ‘Cause I’m telling you…”

HyukJae rolls his eyes and leans in to peck DongHae’s lips once, twice, thrice, and then a kiss, deep and heartfelt. He exhales against his lips, and just then DongHae realizes how nervous his boyfriend actually is. “Not you. Me. It’s a… I don’t know, okay? A celebration. My graduation. And… you know, three years.”

DongHae raises his eyebrows; three years already? It seems forever and as if no time has passed at all. It’s as if they have been stuck in the same time warp over and over. It’s comfortable; terrifying, but… familiar. It’s difficult to explain, for someone who hasn’t been in a leashing situation where you love the one who holds the lock.

“Well, at least someone is graduating.” The teen doesn’t pick up on the bitterness in DongHae’s voice, but the words do come out harsher than usual. HyukJae doesn’t know it (doesn’t really care, if he’s honest), but DongHae’s failing. He’s got a half-ride for a prestigious university and he’s flunking it, throwing money down the drain just because he’s viciously in love. Not that he’d tell any of it to HyukJae—they don’t share _that._

“What are you getting?” DongHae whispers when HyukJae climbs on the stretcher belly first and slides his jeans just above his ass. There, a half-done 3D chain tattoo almost glistens, black and white and grey and regal, hugging the curve of his lower back sinfully. In the middle, a locket, open and empty—ready.

“YunHo has to finish the chains... and you have to write your name in your handwriting there in the middle so he can scar it. Don’t make me say it again or I’ll stab you with the needle.”

DongHae bats his eyelashes, confused and trying to keep up but unable to do so. Is the teen really asking…? Instead, he takes he pencil YunHo silently offers him and with all the penmanship he can muster he signs his boyfriend’s skin which trembles with anticipation and a weird sense of pleasure as he feels the tip of the pencil gliding across him.

Then the process begins.

There's this thing—this thing that maybe the teen forgot to mention or he just didn't think it would make any difference before... But HyukJae _hates_ needles.

He gets sick from thinking about them, much less knowing he’s got one touching him all over. He feels nauseated and sweaty and feverish, which is why no one else but YunHo would tattoo him at first. YunHo admires HyukJae’s determination, is careful enough to know how much both psychological and physical pain the teen can endure. His bravery impresses the artist, so he finds a weird kind of honor in inking HyukJae.

DongHae does regard it, too, but it’s hard to be calm when he sees the redhead coming apart right next to him.

“If you hate it so much, why do you do it?” DongHae asks, breathless, swallowing down the anguish of feeling HyukJae’s quivering body through their clasped hands.

HyukJae smiles dryly, wincing when YunHo starts up the machine once again and the familiar buzz begins invading his senses. “Because…” Sigh. “Pain is transitory…” Yelp. “Ache, itch, feelings… it all fades. The scars…” Tighten of teeth. “These are forever. And as I look at them, I feel…” Shut of eyes. “Complete. In peace.”

It occurs to DongHae that HyukJae is so cliché and easy to read yet so difficult and complex at the same time.

It occurs to DongHae that he’s irrevocably in love with this lost weirdo of a teenager.

 

 

Which is why the moment he catches HyukJae in his bathroom trembling with a needle digging into his arm, he fucking _looses_ it.

“This has to stop, HyukJae” he lets out, tone stone cold, empty yet charged with scorching ice.

And thus is how HyukJae ends up under an enraged DongHae, empty eyes looking into bloodshot ones.

“You don’t understand…” he whispers, helplessly. His mind has trouble making sense, DongHae being not much more than blurry reflections of fabric and skin.

DongHae hisses at the response and HyukJae flinches.

“You’re a junkie! A fucking filthy junkie!”

“I’m not! I’m NOT!”

“You’re a fucking idiot HyukJae! How can you not _see_ what you’re doing to yourself?!” And DongHae might be screaming now, but he can’t hear himself, there’s just ringing in his ears and red, so much red.

“I hate you! Get off me!” HyukJae is definitely screaming, but he doesn’t feel it at all either—it’s all a void that surrounds them, a blank space where only their voices were heard.

DongHae pins him down harder, shaking him, crying and begging him to snap out of it. HyukJae can’t hear it, can’t make sense of it. To him at that moment all the yelling is unbearable aggression which he needs to stop. He feels like a cornered animal. He wants to bite and scratch and—

“GET. OFF. ME.”

The brunette makes a startled gurgled sound when his head bounces against the bathroom tiles and a punch reaches his middle section, knocking the air off him. He struggles to get hold of HyukJae, but he finds he can’t move at all.

HyukJae widens his eyes, scared and dizzy and woozy—he can’t believe he just did this, but he’s too intoxicated to regret anything. Logic is but instinct at that moment, and there’s one that prevails above all: flee.

 

He runs away with a bang of the door and doesn’t look back.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: prompts are not mine, they are from a tumblr challenge I saw somewhere. just fyi


End file.
